


The Lady and the Scone

by chapter_61



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: M/M, dogwalker AU, this was for simon's bday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-21
Updated: 2016-06-21
Packaged: 2018-07-16 11:07:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7265551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chapter_61/pseuds/chapter_61
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>dogwalker au, it's simon's birthday</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lady and the Scone

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday, Simon!

Simon’s birthday didn’t go as planned. It was raining. He was drenched. And Scone was nowhere to be seen. Just what he needed. 

Simon had been walking his Golden Retriever, Scone, because of course, Scone had wanted to go for a walk when London was receiving a full shower. 

Simon didn’t understand his dog’s mind; Scone hated being bathed, but when it was pouring, he suddenly wanted to go outside. But Simon hadn’t mind, because what could go wrong?

Obviously, a lot of things could go wrong. And they all did. 

He was casually strolling through the park right in front of his house, when Scone suddenly noticed another dog on the other side of the park. Simon, who wasn’t paying attention to his surroundings ~~(probably dreaming about scones)~~ , didn’t expect that his dog would speed towards the other dog, and got abruptly pulledforward. In a big puddle. With his face down.

In his fall, he let go of the leash, and Scone ran off. 

When Simon stood up straight again, he was drenched and muddy. His curls stick flat to his face, just like his clothes to his body. He tried to wipe his hands off, but his body was as dirty, so it didn’t really help. 

He looked around, but he couldn’t see Scone anywhere. “ _Dammit_ ,” he muttered under his breath. 

Stretching his neck, Simon ran in the direction he thought Scone went, and shuddered from the cold. He was definitely going to be sick, even his socks were wet. 

After what felt like years, which were most likely two minutes, he stopped to catch his breath. He bent over, putting his hands on his knees, and inhaled deeply. 

Then he yelled, “Scoooooone! Scone get over here!” Simon whistled with his fingers. “Scoooone!”

No reaction came, and he dropped down on the ground. Already wet, it didn’t make a big difference. A sudden wave of panic started in his chest and went all the way to his frozen toes, making him shiver again. Or maybe it was from the cold. Probably both.

Simon tried not to think about what could happen to Scone, all alone running on the streets, but he couldn’t stop a sob from coming out. He didn’t want to lose another person, or animal, he loved. Definitely not if it was his own fault again.

“What the _fuck_ are you doing?” A voice interrupted Simon’s thoughts, and he jumped up to face the stranger behind him. 

When he turned around, though, he didn’t really know what to say. The stranger was taller than him, and stunning. One of the most beautiful people he had ever seen, that was for certain. He had cloudy grey eyes that watched Simon suspiciously and raven black hair that fell on his shoulders. (Still dry because he was holding an umbrella.)(Simon should have thought of that.) His left mouth corner twitched as if trying to hide a smile, and one eyebrow was raised. 

The stranger blinked at him. Simon blinked back, not sure what to say.

“Can you quit staring?” The stranger demanded, his eyes now hard and narrowed at him, his half-smile gone. Simon realised he had to say something.

“I-uhm, it’s raining.” 

The stranger blinked again. “No shit, Sherlock,” he said. “And can you please close your mouth, you’re breathing in my face.”

Simon quickly stopped gaping at him and lifted his arm. “I’m Simon, hi.”

The stranger’s eyes jumped from Simon’s face to his hand, and then back to his face. “Pleasure,” he declared, without shaking Simon’s hand.

Simon dropped his hand with disappointment and started, “I-my dog, we-”

“Can’t you form full sentences like a normal person?” the stranger interrupted. 

Simon glared at him. “Can’t you shake hands like a normal person?” he fired back.

Slightly shocked by Simon’s answer, the stranger opened his mouth to say something, but then shut it again. He narrowed his eyes further, grabbed Simon’s hand and shook it firmly. “My name is Basilton. And now my hand is dirty.”

Simon shrugged in response. “Not my fault.”

“Why do you look like you rolled over the ground for ten minutes then? Were you _playing_ in the mud?” Basilton asked with a sarcastic undertone. 

“I- no,” Simon suddenly remembered his dog and shook his head. “No, Scone ran after a dog and pulled me in a puddle.”

“Scone? Is that your imaginary friend?” 

“No,” Simon answered dryly. “My dog. And he-”

“Wait, wait,” Basilton interrupted him again. “Your dog? Scone? Did you seriously call your dog _Scone_?” He snorted, a smile creeping on his face. “Are you kidding me?”

Simon felt like he was losing his temper. “Shut up,” he snapped. “He’s gone.”

“Well, then we have a common goal because my dog is gone too. A fucking Labrador came out of nowhere and scared my Dalmatian, and then they both ran off to–why are you looking at me like that? Do you-”

“That’s my dog, you ass. And he’s a Golden Retriever, not a Labrador,” Simon replied.

“Potato, potahto.”

Simon gave Basilton a look. “What do potatoes have to do with-”

“It’s an expression,” Basilton said, rolling his eyes.

“Stop interrupting me.”

“No.”

They both stared at each other until Basilton finally broke the silence by saying, “We should probably go look for our dogs.”

“Fine,” Simon said, looking anywhere but him.

“Are you-”

“ _What?_ ” Simon snapped and he turned his face at Basilton again. Basilton’s eyes were softer, and his smile almost looked apologetic. 

“I’m sorry,” Basilton began gently. “We didn’t really have a good start. Are you cold?”

Simon huffed. “That’s an understatement. My toes are fucking freezing.”

“Here,” Basilton said, giving him his umbrella. “Hold this.”

Now Simon stood confused, holding an umbrella, and Basilton was taking off his jacket. “What are you…?”

“Put this on,” he told Simon, holding out his jacket. “You’ll warm up faster.”

Simon eyed the jacket puzzled, but didn’t move. Basilton sighed and stepped closer. When he stood about five inches from Simon’s face (so close Simon could smell him), he tenderly draped the jacket around Simon’s shoulders. He tugged on the sleeves a bit, like he was trying to pull Simon closer.

Staring in the grey eyes, Simon caught himself getting lost and leaning forward a bit. When he realised what he was doing, he quickly took a step back and rubbed the back of his neck, looking around, feeling a blush spread on his cheeks. 

“I, uhm,” he cleared his throat. “Thanks. We should probably go look for our dogs now.”

Basilton smiled at him again, but Simon thought he saw a flash of hurt crossing his face. A moment later it was gone, though, so it was probably nothing. “Yes. Let’s go,” Basilton said.

“Basilton? Do you want the umbrella back? I’m fine with the jacket alone, I don’t want you to get cold.”

Basilton shrugged at that. “I’ll take it, but walk next to me, so we can both stand underneath it. And call me Baz.” With those words, Baz took the umbrella and hooked his arm into Simon’s, pulling him with him. 

Simon, too flabbergasted by the gesture to say something, let Baz drag him forward, and they fell into a comfortable silence. The only sound came from the rain dripping on the umbrella, and their footsteps. Even though his dog was gone, he was sure Baz and him would find him. Simon felt at ease.

Until an unfamiliar song broke the silence. Next to him, Simon felt Baz jump a little at the sound, and he laughed silently. They halted. Baz pulled a phone out of his jeans’ pocket and looked at the screen.

With a sigh, he asked Simon, “What date is it?”

“The 21st of June,” Simon replied. “It’s my birthday.”

Baz’ eyes became big and he said, "Well that solves everything,” smiling. Simon decided he liked Baz’ smiles.

“Why?”

“Because,-” Baz started, while putting the phone, which had stopped playing the song, back in his pocket, “-that was my father. But I can’t pick my phone up when I’m celebrating my friend’s birthday, can I?”

“Wait,” Simon said slowly, “your friend’s birthday is today too? What a coincidence!” 

Baz gave him a weird look. “Are you being serious?” He covered his face with his hand and sighed deeply. “I was talking about you, dumbass. Nevermind.” 

He started walking again, and Simon quickened his pace to catch up. When he did, he hooked his arm into Baz’ and said, “Sorry, I don’t think a lot. Do you really want to be my friend? We’ve only met five minutes ago.”

“Only if you want to,” Baz said. “But I’m getting thirsty from all this walking. When we found the dogs, would you like to go to Starbucks with me? I’ll pay. Consider it a birthday gift.”

Simon lifted his head to look at him, and for a second he swore he saw a hopeful shine in his eyes. Then he blinked and it was gone. 

“Like… A _date_?” Simon asked cautiously. 

Triumphantly, he saw Baz’ cheeks turning into a soft pink, and Simon bit his lip to hide a grin. This time, Baz was the one rubbing his neck, rambling, “I mean, that’s up to you. You don’t have to, I just wanted- It was just a question, nothing special. If you want to, we can, but if not, that’s fine. Not that I don’t want to, but it’s okay if you-”

“-Baz,” Simon stopped the word-waterfall. “Yes.”

Baz turned his head and asked, “Is that a yes to Starbucks?”

“It’s a yes to the date,” Simon smiled warmly at him. 

Baz returned it and cleared his throat. “Excellent. Now where did our dogs go?”

The moment Baz finished his question, a dirty Dalmatian appeared from under a big bush, like magic, and sprinted at them.

“Oh, Crowley, Lady what have you done?” Baz asked, squatting down to catch the dog, examining her. “You’re even dirtier than Simon.”

“Baz?”

“Yes?”

“Is your dog’s name _Lady_?” Simon snickered.

“Oh shut up.”

“What a ridiculous name. I think you got the wrong Disney movie,” Simon couldn’t stop laughing. “ _Lady_.”

Baz sneered at him. “You’re the one who called his dog _Scone_.”

“Scone is-,” Simon stopped when he saw his own dog leaping at him from the corner of his eye. Too late to react, he got pushed down again and he and Scone fell down on the ground. “Hey there,” Simon laughed. Scone gave him a lick.

“I thought you said your dog was a _Golden_ Retriever? That looks more like a _Brown_ Retriever.”

“Ha. Ha,” Simon said, sending Baz a look while standing up again. He patted Scone’s head. “What can I say, owner and dog are alike. Oh hey, it stopped raining.”

Baz looked up at the sky and nodded. “Finally.” 

After cleaning his hands on his trousers, not really sufficient, Simon took off Baz’ jacket. He walked towards where Baz was standing and reached up to drape it around Baz’ shoulders. 

“Here,” he whispered, and without thinking, he pulled on the sleeves like Baz had done. Because of that, Baz’ face came very close to his, and he breathed heavily as he thought about what he wanted to do. 

When he looked for a sign of encouragement in Baz’ eyes, he only saw nervousness. So he asked softly, “Yes or no?”

And when Baz breathed “ _Yes_ ”, Simon moved his hands to Baz’ cheeks to pull him down a little, closed his eyes and leaned forward, into Baz’ soft lips. And the world stopped spinning. Baz and he were the only ones in the universe, kissing between the stars and the moon and the sun. Simon felt like he _became_ the sun. And Baz was his moon. He had never felt this before.

The moment disappeared when Scone barked loudly at them, and Simon chuckled into Baz’ lips. He leaned back and took Baz’ hand, walking forward. 

“I would like to go on that date now,” he suggested. And when he looked back, Baz was smiling.

Maybe his birthday didn’t go as planned, but it turned out better than he ever expected.


End file.
